A Poetical Translation of the works of Horace With the Original Text, and Critical Notes collected from his best Latin and French Commentators. By the Revd Mr. Philip Francis...The third edition |
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 | A Poetical Translation of the works of Horace |  |
Ode XXVIII. To Lyde.
Say, what shall I do on the Festival Day
Of Neptune? Come, Lyde, without more Delay,
And broach the good Creature, invaulted that lies,
Cast off all Reserve, and be merry and wise.
The Evening approaches, You see, from yon Hill,
And yet, as if Phœbus, though winged, stood still,
You dally to bring Us a Cup of the best,
Condemn'd, like its Consul, ignobly to rest.
Of Neptune? Come, Lyde, without more Delay,
And broach the good Creature, invaulted that lies,
Cast off all Reserve, and be merry and wise.
The Evening approaches, You see, from yon Hill,
And yet, as if Phœbus, though winged, stood still,
You dally to bring Us a Cup of the best,
Condemn'd, like its Consul, ignobly to rest.
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With Voices alternate, the Sea-potent King,
And Nereids, with Ringlets of Azure we'll sing.
From the sweet-sounding Shell thy Hand shall araise
Latona's, and swift-darting Cynthia's Praise.
The gay-smiling Goddess of Love and Delight,
Who rules over Cnidos, and Cyclades bright,
And guiding her Swans with a soft silken Rein
Revisits her Paphos, shall crown the glad Strain.
Then to the good Night, while Bumpers elate us,
We'll sing a Farewel, and a decent Quietus.
And Nereids, with Ringlets of Azure we'll sing.
From the sweet-sounding Shell thy Hand shall araise
Latona's, and swift-darting Cynthia's Praise.
The gay-smiling Goddess of Love and Delight,
Who rules over Cnidos, and Cyclades bright,
And guiding her Swans with a soft silken Rein
Revisits her Paphos, shall crown the glad Strain.
Then to the good Night, while Bumpers elate us,
We'll sing a Farewel, and a decent Quietus.
| A Poetical Translation of the works of Horace | |